The Bed-In of War
by Djuna
Summary: Bayliss, Mulder and Chris ... and Angel Claire, Munchkin and Danish [Part of a 15 story series, not exactly the introduction to this cast of characters]


The Bed-in of War  
  
"Scully... No I meant Dana... *DANA*... please let me kiss you... Kissing sis... so...very good..." Tim nodded, trying to reassure the redhead, straining to keep her from running away. "C'mon Dana, you are... you are so... disturbingly beautiful but... but you and you and you are not making this any  
better."  
Scully began to giggle hysterically as she tried to push him down the hall, almost losing her balance when he turned around rather unexpectedly and kept her eyes closed as she fell against the wall, his arms going around her tight.  
"TIMMY... I know... I know."  
He kissed the back of her neck. "You know what...?" he breathed in exasperation and made a face as he tried to stand straight, pulling her to him. "What... what... hmmm...?" he kissed her red mouth.  
She giggled again, raising her big blue eyes. "The neighbour... I know about the  
neighbour..."  
"How come everyone and anyone becomes less and less drunk than I normally would...? Hmmm... The neighbour... The neigh-bour... I know her too but she does not know me." he slightly pulled back to brush aside the hair that fell onto her face and kissed her nose.  
"William could be home darling."  
Like a hint of lightening, he heard that name and let her go so fast, closing his eyes tight that he did not become aware of her losing it. "You need the bed as of right now," she said from the floor, picking up the layers of her skirt and sighed despite the smile playing at her lips as she  
lifted herself. He rubbed his forehead inconclusively and sidestepped himself, trying to remain  
tranquil. "Wait... wait... you mean here in mine or him in his?" and he dropped the hand to his mouth, laughing at his stupidity and made a gesture off the top of his head, grumbling as she took his hand, pulling him to the door. "You know, parallels... to lives of mine and others and those I never knew... Hmmm... you know Dana... Um..."  
"Where are your keys?"  
"Where are my keys...? Right where I put them last... Let me sleep here, huh?" Tim was so determined to find rest right before his door until she persisted a little louder. "Hmmm, Dana, your... you know... you are a bad kitty Dana... I had this and will this happen, hm?" he reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed the keys, wearily handing them to her as he held his head.  
"Will you sleep with me...?" and started to laugh again when she caught the other definition to his innocence. "Forget... Like I would..."  
He winced once he entered, feeling the cold in the apartment and was led to the room before he could do a quick search.  
"He's not here... I will call him, to see if he's home."  
"No... no... uhhhh..." Tim brought his hands to his eyes as he fell onto the bed. "Oh God... look, no... Don't call  
him."  
"Why not? Are you ok...?"  
"Hmmm, yes, yes... It's... I don't want him to come... to come here..."  
He heard the silence so loud within the room, he covered his ears and moaned softly, somewhat bothered by the dark. "Find... uh... find a little light... Danish... Yes, that's good, real good, hmmm..."  
"I hope you don't call me that tomorrow."  
He removed his hands slowly and peeked, watching her light the candle at the nightstand.  
"I am going to call him, to see how he's doing, Timmy darling."  
Tim watched her leave the room, raising his eyes to the ceiling, to the new shadows that played there, hearing her heels on the wood floor. Tim managed to rub his face into numbness and sneaked beneath the sheets, breathing in their grandiose coolness against his fever.  
"Dana...?"  
Tim peeked into the living room, in the kitchen and sighed heavily as he found the note on the counter. He poured himself water, drinking more than he should, complaining of the unnecessary fullness he felt afterwards and tried to read what she had written. Absent-mindedly he patted the pockets of his shirt, his trousers and felt the pressure in his head as he tried to think where he had left his rims. He went in search for the keys instead, taking the note with him and walked back into his room. There was not enough time to leave the stupor and now he was stuck because at that very moment, he was not sleepy at all. He rested his back for a moment, wondering if it would be safe to take headache medicine. He stared at the dying shadows on the ceiling, playing with his hair, wondering long enough to almost lose interest. His loss of interest was far beyond superior as he found the empty medicine bottle in the bathroom cabinet. He figured there was one person who might have pills for his head and glancing to see if his wingtip laces were tied, he became determined to go ask.  
  
  
  
  
  
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"  
"Even if you act... out of line, I will still see you the same way... I need something for my  
head."  
Tim mumbled, pushing Chris out of the way to enter the apartment and stopped halfway, realizing what he did. With a goofy smile, he tried to quickly brush off the act and shook his head. "You know... I cannot believe... I still cannot believe... I made it here..."  
Without discretion, he looked at the other, the black attire adorning the being of Chris finally making an effect on Tim that all the sensible words in his head started to run away. He lifted his chin to emphasize on his behaviour after a long while but Chris, who neared him then, had a peculiar smile.   
"You have been drinking Timmy."  
"Yes, Timmy has been drinking all-right. Even I would have guessed that but nothing ever gets by you, now does it...?"  
Chris made a clicking sound with his tongue and gestured toward the living room. Tim did the same, preferring to follow and smiled as Chris abided.  
"Did you come here to get my headache medicine?"  
"Thank you for mentioning that." Tim breathed, resting his head against the crest of the sofa and stated very quietly that there was no comfort of shadows there on the ceiling.  
"What?"  
"Yet... I don't know if it would be safe..." Tim said, looking back at Chris. "I... may... have to wait and see... until morning... Morning comes and I have no idea..." he began to grow confused, ultimately forgetting tomorrow's date, tomorrow's plan. "Shit..." he leaned forward, covering his face.  
"Timothy?"  
The voice sounded so far away then and Tim rose without thinking, nearing the other and leaned close. "Yes?"  
Chris stared at Tim, his lips parted, wanting to say something but Tim's face in the way prevented that and he shook his head, handing Tim a very fake smile. "Nothing."  
"Something always comes out of nothing."  
"I will keep that in mind."  
"I will sleep... Can I sleep? I was thinking... somewhere before... that if I sleep... it could have been now... if there was sleep, morning can come  
faster."  
"Trying to forget something?"  
Tim straightened himself, massaging the lower part of his back and furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmmm?"  
"Drinking... to that extreme says something."  
"All the liquor in the world cannot and will not make you forget life and isn't that wonderful? And it so simple because... because you cannot strip yourself from the flesh... And if death is so... is so peaceful how come we are not dead, hmmm...?"  
Chris started to laugh, motioning to the bedroom and Tim nodded again and again. "I am always  
serious.  
"Liquor has that effect on certain people."  
"I am not certain and I am not people... You got that?" Tim bit his lip, clenching his fist and sighed in complete and utter drama as he was pulled into the room.  
"Rest for a bit. I will get you some water."  
Tim made noises in his throat as he slipped underneath the covers.   
"I am so happy to see you in spite."  
When he looked last, to acknowledge whoever spoke to him, he was very much alone.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't like tea..." Timothy said. "Well, not right now."  
Chris raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Not right now... I see."  
"I am not sick."  
"Not necessarily..."  
Chris stirred the tea listlessly, staring at it with a strange look.  
"Will you sit down Chris? I am not in the mood to get nervous. I have had a nervous stomach all  
week."  
"That's why I probably wanted you to have tea."  
"If I remember correct, no means the opposite of yes. No means refusal, to deny. Negate."  
"Maybe your friend would like it."  
Tim almost hit his head against the headboard, knitting his eyebrows in mock shock. "What?"  
Chris smiled as he slightly leaned forward and Tim turned his head to the right to see the sheets pushed away and slapped his hand against his mouth as he bit his tongue hard. He moaned in pain, blinking hard even as his eyes watered and still, Mulder was there with them.  
"Save some for us will you."  
Tim looked at Chris and moaned again as Chris pointed to his own tongue.  
"If I did not know any better, this could be poisoned." Mulder narrowed his eyes to Chris.  
"You think?" Chris nodded. "Sounds like a good possibility... Mr. Mulder." he climbed in to the left of Tim and smoothed down the sheets against his chest. "Sounds like a good plan, if there is ever a next time. To get you out of the way indefinitely... but and that's a heavily unrestrained but, Mr. Mulder, I am in love with Bayliss and he's a good man and I have to have good thoughts. Not act out in bad faith."  
"Ah, reverse psychology on me, Mr. Rawls? Go back to school." Mulder scoffed, placing the cup and saucer on the floor beside the bed.  
Tim finally removed his hand from his mouth, feeling to see if his tongue was still there and stared at Mulder, leaning close to him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"  
"You are starting out bad, Timothy. I should think before I talk if I were  
you."  
"I have noticed you are too aggressive with Tim."  
"What have you noticed when Mr. Rawls? You are in no fucking position to evaluate our relationship. Perhaps what you don't know is that he has a mother and will not need another one. Besides, it's fucking boring being otherwise."  
Tim looked at him and glanced at Chris, who nodded to himself, showing off a very secretive smile.  
"I know who he loves." Mulder said and looked at Tim as he threw a sunflower seed in Chris' direction.  
Tim closed his eyes as Chris did the same.   
"This is insane." Tim said quietly. "What the hell am I doing here?"  
"You don't think sometimes."  
"What? Danish?" Tim dropped his hands and stopped breathing when he saw Scully at his feet and he smiled. "What brings you here to this very mad get-together? Jesus, I am going crazy." Tim sighed despondent.  
"Mind if I lick your feet?"  
Chris snickered to the side as Scully stretched out like a black cat in her gabardine dress and black stockings, undoing the laces of his wingtips rather languidly.  
"I would mind."  
"Yet we don't really care what Timmy thinks, now do we boys?"  
"I like to pretend to everyone else but with him, I trust. And I definitely don't have to prove anything to the instigator to his right." Mulder said silently.  
"Was that the final truth?" Chris asked in curiosity. "We don't care?"  
Tim stared at him and brought his hands to his mouth as she started to lick his feet.  
"That must mean something... Yet didn't Gee say we should never get sleep if we wonder about the why...? Oh wait, he never said that to me, hmmm." Tim whispered, referring to her act. "What am I doing here? What's happening to me? I must be dreaming... Can one admit they are dreaming within a dream?"  
"Anything is possible in a realm of impossibility."  
"What? You yourself are impossible Mr. Mulder."  
"Mr. Rawls, I will go over there to your side and show you the impossibility of pain a human being can  
never suffer. I understand myself perfectly well and I am sorry you are too ignorant to have open  
mind." he said with a strained voice as he threw two more sunflower seeds in Chris' direction.  
"Open mind? I am perhaps the first and last definition to such words."  
"It has to be a dream....This cannot be happening." Tim stared at Dana licking away, enjoying herself like a cat in bath. Tim sighed, feeling his skin run and shook his head. "What am I doing here?"  
"What the hell am *I* doing here?"  
They looked at one another and heard the grunting turn into a cough. Munch escaped from beneath the bed, coughing wildly and trying to hold onto the delicacy of his ornate glass hookah with the Midas touch.  
"Um, I don't presume I ever gave you permission to smoke underneath my bed." Chris said solemnly at the lack of respect.  
"It's ok Chris." Tim said whole-heartedly, patting his shoulder.  
"Don't *touch* him." Mulder said, hitting Tim's hand.  
"William!" Tim hissed with suspicion and stopped to acknowledge the older man in black. "You just confirmed I am having a dream John. I would never invite you anywhere beyond the squad  
room."  
"Jesus Bayliss, can you spread a little more joy?" Munch said in grief.   
Tim sank a little lower in the bed, trying to devise a way to leave this mess behind.  
"You want to lick my feet afterwards my redheaded queen? Perhaps I can suggest a few other  
places."  
"Now that you mentioned it, no."  
"You see Tim, I don't get it."  
"What the hell..." Chris lit a clove cigarette and offered Tim, forgetting  
Mulder.  
"I would think that after I am gone, you can be undeniably rude but until then, I think you should put your jealousy aside and offer me one all the same."  
Tim concentrated upon that monotone repeating those words in his head and he could not help his smile, when he realized what Mulder was up to.   
Chris sighed, not having the energy to say anything else and made the offer.  
"No thank you. I don't smoke those." He grinned as he removed his box of cigarettes from his jacket.  
"Now that I noticed, this is a very morbid gathering." Tim said sadly. "Everyone's in black."  
"Are we...? That's true." Chris said in a low voice, exhaling gradually as his eyes oscillated about the room.  
"I am not." said Claire, climbing into the room from the opened window from the far right. "I have been searching all night for  
you."  
"It's so wonderful to see you." Tim said happier than ever. He ignored all the jaw dropping, hissing and staring at his direction as he saw Claire and Claire alone. He quickly apologized to Scully as he tried to remove himself from the bed.  
"Where are you going Timmy?" Scully asked suddenly.  
"Who are you talking to Timothy?"  
"You cannot have the night without the moon... You know what I just realized, if the day did not have the sun, it would be dark, it would be  
night."  
"I know this is your home Chris but if he continues, can I throw him out?"  
"By all means Dana. Who is Timothy talking to?"  
"Tim?"  
"You three don't see her?"  
The three looked back at Munch simultaneously.  
"See who?"  
"Mr. Mulder... *Claire*..."  
"He's talking to himself." Chris said in wonder.  
"Are you trying to imply my boy is mad?"  
"Are you trying to imply that I am implying something?"  
"Even if it does not work out with him, you two have no such thing as a history." Munch muttered, and peered at Scully over his rims. "I can turn your whole world upside down Dana."  
"John, could I have some?"  
"Sure, anything for you doll. I made this one last night."  
"You know, I am still wondering how you got here John?"  
"What Timmy? Are you this afraid of being found out, that I would love to tell everyone of your little  
orgies...?"  
"I am getting bothered because you are offering Dana your drugs."  
"Drugs? How dare you call my medicinal habit a *drug*. How disgustingly insulting Bayliss!"  
"I asked him for some Timmy. It's ok. I wanted a taste."  
"Don't discourage me Dana." Tim said with annoyance. He became determined to uphold the wayward appearances of his two lovers on the bed. Lust and love in the same room, slightly apart but spiritually together, on the bed he was supposed to be sleeping on in the house he forgot the destination to. Tim snapped his fingers to get away from his reverie and looked at Claire, who was now sitting on the windowsill, trying to catch snowflakes with her tongue. "It just hit me Claire, that you don't have your wings."  
"Isn't that grand?"  
"How did you get rid of them?"  
She stopped fussing with the snowflakes and drew her big button eyes his way, her smile heaving a downfall. "Don't remind me  
anymore."  
"I am a detective. I get paid to be curious. I have to know everything of everything. Did you forget who you were dealing with?"  
She sighed so heavy, he could have sworn to have done so himself and watched her jump off the windowsill, turning around slowly for him, showing him her small white back. He almost got sick to his stomach as he rushed to her in violence. "You... you yanked them... You *yanked* them off Claire?"  
grabbing her tiny upper arms in his trembling hands rather hard.  
"Tim, this is very amusing. You getting worked up for nothing."  
Tim and Claire turned their heads to Chris. Munch cleared his throat to save everyone  
in the room. "Chris, I am not so sure you have seen the other side to Tim. He's the total opposite of what you are used to. Trust me, she's  
there."  
"We can believe YOU because you are *smoking* John."  
"Chris, it's just better if you simply behave."  
"You can go blue in the face and he still won't know what hit him."  
"Mr. Mulder, maybe it would be a good idea if I throw you out now."  
"For once, ask Tim what he wants." Mulder uttered, stalling for time.  
Tim stopped talking to Claire and turned around, not letting her go. "Ask me what?"  
"What do you want?"  
"And he means what do you want *right now*. Don't go into this beastly beauty pageant shit about the world having to be saved and the plants in the house need to be watered and why do donuts have holes..."  
They all stopped to look at Munch.  
"Silly me, thinking I was involved." Munch muttered, rolling his eyes.  
"What do I want? Where is this coming from?"  
"He wants to throw me out."  
"Chris... I don't even know how he got here but now that he's here, I... don't think... it would be...  
nice."  
"Timmy, you are so sweet."  
"*Sh* Dana, I am trying to sound reasonable here."  
"Is that what it was all this time? You sure had me fooled." Munch smirked, caressing the long stem of his hookah, admiring its presence. Tim glared at him and waved his hands in the air. "I am not mad. And you John, it's enough that I have to work with you but why do you torment me in my dreams...?"  
"Dream? You call this a dream? Timmy, for all I know, I could be hallucinating *you*."  
Tim narrowed his eyes to Mulder as he left the bed, strangely imitating Chris without knowledge.   
"Are we leaving?"  
Tim glanced at Mulder and wrinkled his face. "Leaving where?"  
"Away from here, anywhere but here."  
"No, no, Mr. Mulder... Let's ask again."  
"Mr. Rawls, don't tempt me to get angry."  
"Ask again what? Have you guys been conspiring against me?"  
"Um, leave the paranoia to me Timmy. It does not suit you." Munch said quietly, crossing his legs.  
"Claire, do you know anything?"  
"Only one person loves you in this room. You know this. This person is already speaking but you are so afraid, you are turning deaf ears because you are afraid of  
pain."  
"Why did you have to die Claire?" Munch asked in sadness.  
"Why don't you come with me and forget them."  
"What?" Tim squeaked.  
"Scully, what did you just say?" Mulder asked, placing his hands on his hips.  
"You like him too?" Munch asked in horror.  
"Whoever gets in my way, I am still willing to fight."  
"You just didn't... Please tell me you *didn't* Mr. Rawls," Mulder threatened, rolling up his sleeves.  
Tim touched his throat, making gestures to calm Claire who was indeed quietly aroused in her anger to Scully's statement in Tim's name.  
"I mean everything I say, that's why I say it. What are you waiting for Mr. Mulder? *Get* in my  
way."  
"Wait, wait, did you forget who you were dealing with?" Munch laid his hookah like the baby it was on the bed, quickly asking Scully to look after it and reached a hand into the pocket of his frock coat. "You are dealing with a pacifist. I don't really think Tim thinks like the old times, where fighting for the one you love makes you a bigger man. In this time of age, only size matters in other important areas. So who here has the  
biggest...?"  
"I see you getting in my way John." Chris said then, taking a step closer to the sacerdotal presence.  
"I jest, I jest... it's quite all-right. Jeez. Look, I can solve this.  
Make all this go away."  
"How?"  
"Mr. Mulder, by flipping a coin. I have to ask Timmy alone. Timmy, heads or tails?"  
"Um... hmmm, um... tails."  
Munch flipped the coin and nodded when he caught it. "Ah, I see... What do you know, it's a double headed coin. Take that as a lesson. I am leaving this joint."  
"A lesson?"  
"A lesson in what?" Mulder asked with hesitation.  
"Advice from someone else will not help him or help anyone for that matter. You have to look into yourself to find that answer. It's the only place where it  
exists."  
"Isn't what you just told me some form of advice?"  
"Mr. Mulder, silence speaks for itself." Munch thanked Scully, removing his hookah from the bed with ease and left the room.  
"Fighting seems the last solution." Chris said stubbornly.  
"I agree."  
Tim remained glued to the spot in fear as Chris and Mulder grabbed either arm. "What are you doing?"  
"Whoever manages to get more is the one who gets you."  
"That's not fair. If he's not complete, what's the use of having him?"  
"No one asked you Dana." Mulder said in frustration.  
"I asked myself, so it counts."  
"But what she says is true," Tim implored, trying to let go of the hold they had on him.  
"I am getting you Tim. I am not letting him have you. Over my dead body... Oh, I do so apologize Claire... if you are still here...?"  
"She's here all right Chris. Thank you. You made her cry." Tim desperately tried to reach her but their hold on him was getting fierce, as either man yearned to keep him, pulling at his arms he was convinced he was going to come apart in a matter of seconds. He closed his eyes tight hearing the sound of her cry get overwhelmingly loud, she would be capable of breaking the windows and the mirrors before he lay broken at a heap.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tim woke with a terrible and soundless start, struggling to breathe, feeling undeniably restricted and realized he was held in an embrace. Ah, so Mulder had come to see him and it was one of those maddening dreams in between the nightmares. He exhaled long and hard, feeling his eyes wet, his mouth dry, his head hurting.  
"William...?"  
"No... I am sorry to disappoint you." said the quiet voice into his right ear, just another voice, like any other and not that comforting monotone. Tim positioned himself onto his back and found Chris looking down at him.   
"So it's you." he breathed.  
"So it is. Just to affirm, nothing happened. I took the liberty to lay here with you, to hold you. I figured it was another one of your dreams because you were crying..."  
Tim wiped his eyes, nodding. "Ok." he said in that guileless mannerism.  
"Are you ok...?"  
Tim touched his right arm, understanding it had fallen asleep due to the uncomfortable position  
and nodded, not having strength to say much.  
"Here, I brought you the pills and the water. I think enough time has  
passed."  
Chris slipped the pills into Tim's mouth, his fingertips grazing the lips with intent, holding the glass close to that mouth,  
to give Tim enough water to drink and couldn't help his smile when he saw the rivulet down Tim's chin. He bent his dark head and languidly licked it, ending right before the bottom lip, laughing silently as he felt Tim tense up beneath him, feeling his heart. "I was thirsty..." he taunted, getting off the bed. "You want another reaffirmation to feel safe?"  
Tim remained still, breathing hard, staring at Chris make more distance. 


End file.
